


missing a home

by orphan_account



Series: to build a home [2]
Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Angst, Bring tissues, F/F, Mittsy makes a cameo, This is a very sad chapter, people die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 04:55:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4422209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the call tone jolts her awake, early in the morning.</p><p>"tobin, t-there's been a fire. your farm. it's all on fire. w-w-we called in already, but y-your parents, they need you here."</p><p>set in the "to build a home" verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	missing a home

**Author's Note:**

> Set when Alex and Tobin are 26 and 28, respectively.

the call tone jolts her awake, early in the morning. 

tobin's always been a light sleeper in the city. in the country, there were no sirens, no traffic sounds to wake her up. there were no barking dogs or MAX trains or shouting bums. she missed the pace and quietness of her childhood farm, but she knew living with her parents wouldn't be feasible, with alex's job and all. 

tobin rolls over to the bedside table and flips open her phone.

"this is tobin."

she's greeted by the sound of sobbing. tobin checks the caller i.d. it's alex's mom. shit.

"tobin, t-there's been a fire. your farm. it's all on fire. w-w-we called in already, but y-your parents, they need you here." 

"on my way," tobin replies, voice strong and direct. 

she rolls over to alex, shaking her shoulder gently, but with urgency. 

"alex," tobin whispers in her wife's ear, "alex."

her wife's eyes flutter open, "y'hm?" she asks groggily.

"there's been a fire. the farm," she struggles to keep her tone in check; she struggles from breaking into tears.

alex jolts awake, and the couple jump into dressing.

tobin pulls on jeans and a shirt, shoving on glasses while alex bundles into a long grey cardigan. they're out the door in less than five minutes.

tobin's grasping the steering wheel of her truck so tightly, her knuckles are turning white. her gaze is focused on the road, not deviating to even look at alex. she thinks she can see tears forming in tobin's eyes, but alex doesn't comment. the truck hurtles down the freeway, well over the speed limit. alex almost wants to tell tobin to slow down, but she knows better. tobin's stubborn as hell, for one, and two, it's not her place. if alex's parents' farm was burning, she knew she'd be the same way.

they ride in silence for the next twenty minutes.

alex can now see tears trickle down her wife's face. she thinks tobin cries in a dignified way. tobin doesn't scrub at her eyes or wipe away her tears, she just lets them fall. but, she never drops her head. not for anything. her jawline stays strong and her eyes stay to the sky; towards God. tobin releases her right hand grip on the steering wheel, reaches into her shirt and pulls out her cross. it's suspended on a dainty gold chain and she polishes it every sunday. usually, tobin never touches it, ever. but now, she has it clasped into her hand with an iron fist and alex thinks she's praying.

she takes tobin's hand the moment that she's finished. 

"hey, tobs?" she says softly.

"yeah?" tobin's voice comes out broken and quiet.

"i love you."

her wife smiles back at her, "i love you too."

twenty minutes more, and they pull up to tobin's parents' farm.

what's left of it.

the farmhouse is gone, like it never existed. the fire completely destroyed the first two acres of crop, but tobin can see that the third and fourth and fifth look largely unharmed. the first half of the chapel in the old red barn is also gone. the young couple can see jagged charred edges taking bites out of the exterior. one pew is burnt in half and the back two no longer exist. the only thing untouched in the clear area of property out front is tobin's oak tree, growing straight and strong. tobin thinks its a sign from God.

tobin and alex are quickly approached by an emt.

"mrs. and mrs. heath?" he asks respectfully.

"yeah," tobin replies, surveying the damage, not quite processing that it's real.

"we were able to get your dad out of the fire with some complication, and he's being sent up to portland for treatment but your mother..." he trails off.

tobin's attention snaps to the emt. "my mother _what?_ "

he only shakes his head in response. 

she freezes. her mother. her mom. witty and intelligent. graceful at the piano, but a headless goose otherwise. the woman who taught her and alex french in the forest, because she herself complained that it was too nice of a day to stay inside. she's gone. with God.

tobin feels herself grow weak, and stumbles into alex's arms.

tobin truly breaks down. alex has never seen her cry like this. her body is tense and coiled, but her limbs fall weak and floppy, grabbing onto folds in alex's cardigan. the tears stream down her face, seemingly never ending. alex doesn't say anything. she knows not to say anything. instead, she hugs tobin back tighter, enfolding her in her lanky grasp. this hug says i love you. this hug says i'm here for you. this hug says you are not alone, tobin powell heath.

alex's parents come running toward them, finally seeing the couple through the masses of firefighters. while alex has tried to stay strong through this thing for tobin, she needs to have a turn to be the one leaning on someone. she kisses the top of tobin's head and then runs to her dad, sobbing into his chest. he rubs the back of her head and whispers "shh, i know, babyhorse, it's gonna be okay" into her ear. michael morgan isn't sure if he's talking to his daughter or himself.

the heath's were important to the close knit small farm culture in their area. jeff heath had gotten his minister certification after tobin moved out and held service on sunday in the big red barn, which he, his wife and tobin all helped out in creating. all handmade pews and handsewn banners and tapestries. since the heath's were the spiritual leaders of the small community they had built up, strong friendships were made with the neighbours and they frequently had guests over from down the road for meals. everyone was in some way affected by the lanky minister with a giant eyeglass prescription, crooked smile and tanned skin. cindy heath was no less received. much more popular in the women's circles, she held women's group and organized events with all the women on the "block".

but now, there would be no women's group. there would be no more sewing parties or canning parties or quilting parties. and with the grim state of tobin's dad's health, there may not be a service at all.

"they were incredible people, tobin," alex's mom says simply. the implications carry a wight greater than the words themselves.

"yeah, they were," tobin replies numbly.

* * *

they sit awkwardly in the waiting room. tobin's hair is a mess, her glasses are dusty and her clothing is haphazard. the shirt is buttoned incorrectly, one to spare at the bottom and one missing at the top. the cuffs of her jeans are uneven and her workbooks aren't even tied. alex looks a little better, but the bags under her eyes show greatly and her body prickles from the cold of only wearing a slip and cardigan. the couple are a splotch of dust in an uncomfortably sterile waiting room. there are few others waiting as well. one group looks to be preparing for a baby. another are as quiet and sad as they are. tobin tears her eyes away from the other people and focuses on alex's hand clasped in her own. tobin looks up at her wife and gives her a small, blink and you miss it smile. alex returns it.

tobin ducks her head in prayer again. nothing out loud, because what she has to say is between her and Him only.

they wait and wait and wait. the baby crowd disappears with a nurse down a hall, giddy with glee. they wait some more. the other sad group is told something good, because their eyes light up. they're now all over each other, hugging and crying and laughing through the tears. alex wonders what their good news was. the couple waits and waits some more until hours have gone by and they both realize that a successful surgery does not take this long.

just as tobin and alex begin to worry, a doctor emerges. they can't tell if she has good or bad news. the couple rises quickly after she calls their surname.

"i'm dr. mitts, the surgeon." she reaches out a hand and tobin shakes it, "your father suffered major burns all over his body, as well as a broken leg, broken ribs and a punctured lung. he lost a lot of blood going into surgery, and then there were complications during surgery. i'm afraid he didn't make it. i'm sorry for your loss."

alex feels a stab into her chest, but watches tobin for any reaction. 

there is none.

she stands still, hands gripping each other and she nods her head. there are no tears. Alex thinks she's in shock.

"what do we need to sign?" she asks in a monotone.

alex is confused. why isn't her wife freaking out? why isn't she sobbing? why isn't she punching things, or kicking chairs over? 

"i have minimal paperwork at the desk for you, but the rest needs to be sorted out through your parents' lawyers," dr. mitts replies.

tobin nods, and then follows the surgeon up to the main desk. alex finally sees a reaction. tobin's hands. they're shaking a mile a minute, the biggest tremours she's ever seen. alex isn't particularly religious, but she finds herself praying now. praying for the farm community. praying for her parents. praying for tobin.


End file.
